A day in Sutton…
Have you heard of Sutton? Have you lived in or been there? I assume you have at some point if you reside in London or Surrey been to Sutton. If not, know that it’s a horrible chav-strong pit. A place where the most respected career for a man is considered to be scaffolder (and part-time bouncer/drug dealer) and where lady-merit comes from how many babies you have under your motherly bingo-wing (extra points per baby daddy). A place where 16 people voted for Danny Dyer in the recent elections even though he wasn’t even standing for election.
I avoid where possible Sutton like the plague but I joined last week a gym that is pretty near to Sutton train station so time in the locality is currently avoidable. My first Saturday in Sutton was memorable and full of rage. I would like to share with you some of my observations.
1. Religion and Exercise do not mix.
Now, I need to treat carefully with this one because people are overly sensitive about religion. Know please that the following is not a dig at any religion. As a now enlightened and militant atheist but former practising Roman Catholic myself, I firmly believe that ALL religions are ridiculous. They’re all made up fairy tales containing no more truth than Peter Pan (or hook if you’re an 80’s baby) invented in the days of Fred Flintstone to control the masses. Now we have the Internet (lesser evil? Doubtful).
Anyhow, in the gym was a Muslim woman. She was on the stepper wearing a headscarf. Said headscarf was very long and was causing a lot of interference to her step-up-ability. She was also wearing about 6 layers of clothes. It was 28 degrees. After she almost fell off the machine having tripped over her scarf, one of the personal trainers expressed some concern as indeed they would be expected to do. The woman explained that for religious reasons she could not remove her scarf and expose her hair. She also claimed that the reason she was wearing so many layers of clothing, including when not in fitness based scenarios, was because it makes her sweat which will exacerbate her weight loss. How can dehydration through sweating be confused for weight loss? Terrible misinformation.
So, my point. Well, obviously Gods do not exist but if they did I think they should have the common decency to publish updated versions of their respective religious manifestos (propaganda). If the Muslim God had seen this poor woman nearly falling off the gym equipment he would have 100% inserted caveats into his holy words. Such as:
1st Edition – “Something something do not expose hair…blah blah…women…don’t make me angry…cover your hair…respect etc.”
2010 update – “…unless you are in a fitness facility where adhering to these religious stipulations would not only affect your ability to exercise but also place you in physical danger.”
In conclusion Gods are selfish.
2. Baby talk
After gym > Nandos. Standard. 3 roid head monsters on the table next to me, as well as 2 toddlers. In the eyes of the roid heads, it was still acceptable to talk about binge drinking, drug taking and ‘banging sluts’ in front of their young and incredibly susceptible offspring. Cretins.
3. Romany gypsy
Parked outside Morrisons (or indeed Safeway if again you’re an 80’s baby) was a Romany gypsy, begging. Although she was asleep on the floor. What upset me the most was that I couldn’t decide if she was arrogant or just lazy. You decide…
4. Flags
Plebeian underclasses purchasing flags like they’re going out of fashion. Patriotism = win. Chav with flags = fail. I propose that in order to purchase, own, fabricate, steal, display, dismantle or even look at a St. Georges Cross you have to pass a test, administered by myself. The test will include basic history, grammar and geography questions.
5. Sports Direct.
I never shop in public if I can help it, it’s a by-product of being a a sociopath. Online ftw. I thought I’d have a chance look in Sports Direct (I know I know) just for some very basic gym attire. I lasted 30 seconds. It was busy. If was full of cunts. It was like a jumble sale. It was a busy cunty jumble sale. So I purchased online. Ordered 3 things. 1 item was sent erroneously. 66.6% success rate = no value.
6. Paedophiles & Slags
To make matters worse, my only means of escape on this lovely sunny day was on a poverty wagon (or bus if you’d prefer). At the bus stop I witness something which typified Sutton. It’s long and I’m bored so I’ll try and do it justice with bullet points.
- 2 X 15/16 year old chavettes waiting at the bus stop. I’m guessing they were talking about which one would go first if they met Danny Dyer and which one would sit back and rim.
- A group of 6 X 30 something men walking towards the bus stop. Adjectives used to describe them would include: Heroin, Adidas, stubble, cider, Asbo, house arrest, job seekers allowance, local boozer, Sports Direct.
- The 2 groups makes eye contact. – As the gentlemen near closer the girls ceremoniously compete for attention. Chest and lip pouting (no vagina), scent release (I’m not sure what that is) & eye contact.
- The guys reciprocate. Proximity increase. Then, out of nowhere, the girls declare, with the utmost synchronicity:
“YOU FUCKING NONSES. We’re 15”
- All parties get on the bus. – I, as always sit downstairs listening to my iPod pondering why I don’t like in Australia.
- The group of guys get off the bus arguing amongst themselves. The last thing I heard before I shot myself in the face was:
“Mate, I’m being serious, not this time. Seriously mate, they’re too young this time. We’ll just see who is at the party.”
In summary, I whole-heartedly believe that fertility should be a privilege and not a right. Who’s with me?
